


When Its Last Restraint is Gone

by FanchonMoreau



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanchonMoreau/pseuds/FanchonMoreau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They're all too afraid of me."</p><p>"I'm not afraid of you." </p><p>In the eye of the storm, Gibson and Reed Smith have a cup of tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Its Last Restraint is Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen Archie Panjabi's character called a variety of things: Paula, Tanya, or just Reed as a first name. For the purposes of this story, her first name is Tanya. Tanya Reed-Smith. 
> 
> Be the femslash you wish to see in the world - Gandhi, probably. Based on a not-quite substantiated rumor that I desperately want to believe.

There is little point in having a dream journal if you are not going to record your sex dreams.

Stella does not have the time to reconstruct every lurid detail, and the images are clouding up even as she reaches for her bag and digs out her leather-bound notebook and her pen. She draws a line under the previous entry and writes:

_Riding pillion on Tanya’s motorbike from the crime scene. Vehicle stops but engine is still running. Vibrations making me v. wet. Reach down and put hand on the inside of Tanya’s thigh. Ask her if she feels it and she says yes. Move hand under Tanya’s trousers and find her clit, touch her, feel her come against my fingers. Bike starts moving again and I grind myself against her arse until I’m close._

Stella sighs. The urge to duck into the hospital ladies’ room and finish the job is strong, but Annie Brawley might be able to communicate soon and Stella has already slept longer than she intended. Burns told her to go back to the hotel and get some rest, but Stella saw right through his feigned concern and recognized his attempt to distance her from the case after her conversation with the killer. She’d be offended if it weren’t so predictable. So she stays here, at the hospital, and waits for Burns to ring her in a panic.

She taps the pen a few times against the paper, and her eyes scan to the adjacent page and settle, much against the will of her brain, on a dream from a few days before:

_Killer is tied up face down on my bed in Hilton. He is lean and strong. I am moving three fingers in and out of his rectum. My nails are v. long, Jezebel red. I tear out his penis through his rectum and watch him bleed out. When he’s dead, I clean him up. Bathe him. Wash the sheets._

Stella shudders a bit; when she had woken up from that dream, she had been lying on the cot in her office. She had wanted to remember it as an observer, perhaps as a presence floating on the ceiling, but she could almost feel the tension in her fingers. Still throbbing.

Now there’s nothing but a low warmth, like a hum of something that you’ve left running by mistake. She tries to remember the noises Tanya made in the dream, but they are long gone. A pity. Stella tucks her journal in an inside pocket of her bag and goes to fetch some coffee from the hospital cafeteria. Maybe she’ll get two cups, just in case she runs into anyone in the hall or at reception.

* * *

There’s only decaf coffee in the cafeteria, so Stella makes two cups of strong black tea and returns to the hall outside Annie Brawley’s hospital room. Dr. Reed-Smith is pacing beside a nurse’s station. When she sees Stella, her eyes perk up.

“I am _happy_ to see you,” she says. Stella’s unsure if she’s talking to her or to the Styrofoam cup.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s just tea.”

Tanya frowns. “Tea? I need to be awake for longer than… tea.”

“I know,” Stella says, and sighs. “I’m sorry to keep you. I’m… concerned that some of my male colleagues won’t give Rose’s account the gravity it deserves. I’m afraid they might need some kind of,” she stops and searches for the right term, “character reference.”

A heavy silence passes between them.

Stella breaks it. “Next batch of coffee is going to take ten to fifteen minutes to brew. At least, that’s what the cafeteria staff tells me,” Stella tries to smile, but it transforms into a grimace of its own accord. She watches Tanya strum her fingers against the cup before taking a tentative sip. Nails cut short, so they don’t get in the way of her work. And still no wedding ring.

“This isn’t what I need right now,” Tanya mutters into the cup. 

Stella gestures to some chairs, and they sit down.  “Still all right?” she asks, and she rests her hand on Tanya’s elbow.

“My girls sent me some pictures while I was in the lab,” Tanya says. It comes out in a rush, so she takes a breath before she continues. “My sister-in-law took them to see Frozen for what I think is the seventh time. This time they dressed up. I was supposed to go with them, but obviously…“

“You were called away,” Stella finishes.

“Yes.  Maybe when we’re done here you can meet them. If you have a high tolerance for Disney songs, that is.”

Stella tries to summon up Tanya’s daughters’ names, she knows that they’re somewhere, but right now her mind’s crowded with _Fiona Gallagher, Alice Monroe, Sarah Kay, Annie Brawley._ She focuses: Tanya’s daughters are five and six. The older one’s Sonia, and the younger one’s Diana. Well, that’s a convenient pneumonic for next time. Sun and moon.

“I’d like that,” Stella says. “I’d like to meet your daughters. Is there anything I can get for you now, besides the coffee?”

Tanya chuckles. It’s a low-pitched sound, but it carries. “Maybe a full body massage.”

“Right away,” Stella quips. She makes a show of looking around. “I’m sure we can find enough strapping young police men who don’t know what to do with themselves milling about. Get them working on the important tasks.”

That makes Tanya laugh outright. “Wouldn’t that be a flagrant abuse of your power, Detective Superintendent?”

“Yes, but no one would pursue disciplinary action. They’re all too afraid of me.” Stella raises her eyebrows and takes a long sip of her tea, even though she hardly needs the caffeine. She’s sitting close to Tanya now and there’s something in her that just won’t settle.

“Such wusses. I’m not afraid of you.”

The response startles Stella, reignites her arousal.  There’s a hint of steel in Tanya’s tone, as if she’s ready to step up to a challenge that no one has yet bested. Stella’s not sure she’s hearing properly; it’s possible that this is just banter that’s gone a bit off the rails. But Tanya must know that she has a certain sway over Stella.  That with the right word or touch Stella would heel at Tanya’s feet like a dog for its master.

Christ, now she’s really turned on.

“If that’s the case,” Stella whispers, “I could do the massage myself. I’m very good with my hands.”

Tanya casts an appraising look at Stella. “Are you?” She sounds genuinely curious.

“We do have ten to fifteen minutes before there’s more coffee in the cafeteria,” Stella muses. And then she leans in closer. “Although I should warn you that my methods are somewhat unorthodox.”

Tanya meets Stella’s eyes. There is a slight wariness there, something that inquires after what Stella really wants. So Stella looks away and stares intently at Tanya’s hands before reaching out and lacing their fingers together.

“Let me do this for you,” Stella says. She strokes the inside of Tanya’s wrist.

Tanya studies the inside of her empty cup for a long moment. Then she looks up.

She says: “There’s a washroom near the hospital morgue. We could go there.”

Stella nods. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Stella shuts the bathroom door behind them and starts simply, easily, just with grasping Tanya’s hips. She can have Tanya lean her arse against the sink, and then Stella can just get on her knees and get to work, but that feels too perfunctory. Stella’s surprised at how much she wants a kiss.

So Stella leans in, lets their lips linger near each other for a moment, and then Tanya nips at Stella’s bottom lip, and _god._ Stella has to mentally steady herself so she doesn’t crash their teeth together or slobber all over this woman like an overeager teenaged boy. _This is not about you_ , Stella repeats to herself, even as she moves her hands to Tanya’s neck and sticks her tongue into Tanya’s mouth.

After a few heady moments, Stella pulls her lips away from Tanya’s and starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on her neck and collarbone. She listens for sounds, encouragement that she’s finding the right spots, but Tanya barely makes any noise. So Stella moves her hands back to Tanya’s hips and waits for a tremor, or a shudder, or for something in Tanya’s body to give way. And Stella feels the reaction when her lips press just above the top button of Tanya’s blouse.

Stella undoes Tanya’s blouse and smooths her hands over Tanya’s body. The bra is simple black nylon with a front clasp, but Stella doesn’t dare undo it. Pandora’s box, she thinks, no use opening that unless she plans to be here for a good, long while. And as much as she wants, and she _wants_ , she just doesn’t have the time. There’s a thrill in the rush, though, because Burns could call any moment.

She thinks about answering the phone and talking to Burns with Tanya’s wetness still on her lips. Jesus fucking Christ.

This needs to move faster. Stella pinches Tanya’s nipples through her bra and then kisses a straight line down her body until she has to get on her knees to keep going. Tanya touches Stella’s shoulder, and Stella looks up past the waist of Tanya’s trousers and meets her eyes.

Tanya takes a breath. “Some massage.”

Stella’s brow furrows slightly. “Is this all right? Do you want this?”

Stella can’t get a proper look at Tanya’s smile or her nod from her position, but she gets a glimpse, and it warms the room. “So long as you want to.”

That gets Tanya a slow smirk. “Oh, I want to,” Stella whispers. She clicks open Tanya’s trousers, pulls down the zipper, and shucks them and Tanya’s knickers down in one easy motion. She makes sure Tanya’s arse is perched against the sink just so, and then she lowers her mouth.

Stella licks a long stripe over Tanya’s labia before finding her clit and tracing slow circles around it with her tongue. Not _quite_ there, not quite yet. She gives Tanya’s clit a butterfly kiss, which earns her a barely-there gasp, and Stella recognizes it as the go-ahead it is. She caresses Tanya’s clit with the tip of her tongue, and then licks it steadily, alternating with long sucks when her tongue gets a bit tired. It’s been too long since she’s done this to a woman, and she almost forgot how _intoxicating_ it is, how good it tastes, and how thrilling it is to get it right. Stella can feel Tanya’s thighs tremble near her face, and she moves her tongue to the rhythm of Tanya’s light panting.

The killer, Stella thinks suddenly, must think of this act as consumption, as devouring. How sad. How poorer he must be for it.

Tanya moves her hand into Stella’s hair and runs it through her fingers. Stella kisses her clit and sucks hard. When Tanya comes, she exhales _Stella_ at a high pitch and then makes a noise that sounds endearingly like a squeak. Stella kisses the inside of her thighs and then leans back to just admire her.

Tanya’s positively stunning. Her face and chest are flushed, and her eyes are just a little damp.

“Come here,” Stella says.

Tanya takes a moment to pull her trousers and knickers back on, and then she sits on the rough tiled floor with Stella. Stella kisses her as soon as she is within reach, and she’s too dizzy with adrenaline to consider whether or not Tanya wants to taste herself on Stella’s tongue. But Tanya reciprocates, and for a little bit it’s just _nice_ kissing her in this unhurried way. Never mind that Stella’s soaked her own knickers through. Tanya’s fingers are so gentle at the nape of Stella’s neck, and if Stella concentrates just on that touch, then maybe she can forget, even if it’s only for a moment…

And then Stella’s mobile rings. Fuck.

“Gibson.”

“Brink. McCurdy passed on an E FIT sketch from an interview you conducted with a woman named Rose Stagg.”

Stella freezes. “Yes. That was the Peter I talked about on the call.”

“You think that’s him?” Brink’s breathing is shallow. He sounds like he’s teetering at the edge of something, and it’s unnerving for Stella. It’s unlike him.

Stella takes a second and constructs her next sentence very carefully. “Until Annie Brawley is able to communicate with us and get us a new E FIT, then I believe it is the closest thing we have to a visual identification.”

There’s a long silence on the other line. “I interviewed him.”

“What? _When?_ ” Stella’s aware of Tanya shifting closer to the sound of Brink’s voice, and she holds up her free hand to entreat Tanya to stay still. Best for Brink to think she’s alone, especially if this is as big as Stella thinks it might be.

“Just today,” Brink says. “He was on the CCTV footage in the Botanic Garden with Sarah Kay. Goes by the name of Paul Spector, has a wife and two kids.”

“A daughter aged seven or eight?” Stella interrupts. Every part of her body is buzzing.

“Yes, a girl named Olivia. I’ve sent the recording of the interview along with the recording of our conversation with him to forensics. He consented to fingerprints and a DNA sample so we have those on file.”

Stella exchanges a wide-eyed glance with Tanya. _Good news?,_ Tanya mouths. Stella nods forcefully. The best news, she thinks.

“Tell forensics to turn that around as fast as they possibly can,” Stella says, even though Brink’s probably already done so. “In the meantime, I want every uniform in Belfast to have a copy of his picture and the license plate number on his car if you have it. Get Ferrington a copy of this guy’s file and send her to the hospital.” Stella pauses; she sent Ferrington back to the station to get some rest just about two hours ago. Well. No going home, no sleep.

“How is Annie Brawley?” Brink asks.

“In critical but stable condition. Conscious but not able to talk. I’ll see if I can get her doctor to consent to face recognition,” Stella says. Tanya reaches over and pats Stella’s hand.

“All right. I’ve emailed you a PDF of his file, but Ferrington will have a hard copy.”

“With a high-definition picture?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Stella replies. She senses that he’s ready to end the call. “And Garrett?”

“Yes?”

Stella takes a deep breath. “This could be _it_ , you know.”

Brink’s silent for several seconds. Then he says: “Yeah. I know.”

Stella ends the call and finds Tanya sitting further away than she remembered. It’s only now that she starts feeling the physical repercussions of her recent activities: her calves are asleep, her knees are raw, and her tongue is heavy in her mouth. She holds out a hand to Tanya and they help each other off the floor.

“You have something big?” Tanya asks.

“Huge. We might be one audio forensic analysis away from our guy.”

Tanya smiles widely at that and goes to wash her hands. She leaves the tap on for Stella and Stella counts to ten as she washes, just out of habit.

When she’s done, Stella cracks open the bathroom door and sees that the corridor is abandoned. She motions for Tanya to lead her out the door, and they walk back to Annie Brawley’s hospital room in silence. When they get there, Stella searches for what to say; she can’t just leave this encounter hanging in the air between them.

“Tanya…” Stella starts.

“Is there anything else you need from me?” Tanya asks. Her voice is level, but the words are deliberate. Stella lowers her eyes. If she could take Tanya back to her hotel room and fuck her on the big bed in the soft, white sheets then she would, and for hours on end. And there may be time for that, later. But not now.

“No,” Stella says softly. “We have what we need from the lab. Go home to your daughters. I’ll be in touch if the situation changes.”

Tanya nods. She starts to walk away, but then Stella watches her face change as she thinks better of it. 

"He has a daughter?" Tanya asks. 

Stella nods gravely.

Tanya's gaze is hard, focused. “Fucking catch the bastard, Stella.”

 _We’re so close_ , Stella tells Tanya with her eyes. _We’re so close and we’re so fucking far._

Out loud, Stella says: “I will.”


End file.
